


Playing Dirty

by pinkfire



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pole Dancing, Public Sex, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkfire/pseuds/pinkfire
Summary: They’re working, dancing in front of a massive audience of clubgoers, displaying a push and pull of flaunting sex appeal, and Kun is trying to fluster Ten. Aha. Two can play that game, Qian Kun.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Qian Kun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	Playing Dirty

The club is pulsing with energy tonight, saturated with luxurious debauchery and drunken bachelors. Hard bass is sending vibrations through the stage, making Ten’s pole buzz in his palms. The busy atmosphere spurs him on. It’s days like these he puts his all into his moves and rolls loose like silk, stretching his legs into sinful angles and throwing practiced winks to the crowd. Every time he spins around the pole and catches a glimpse of himself in the expansive mirror behind the stage, he can hardly recognize the seductive monster rolling its hips against sleek metal.

He chose a good day to wear his favorite outfit. A long-sleeved fishnet crop top is stretched around his lithe figure, catching against the rhinestone pasties secured to his nipples. The slutty piece is paired with black short shorts and glittering silver heels. The flashing and swirling neon lights look good on him, too. They change the color of the blond locks that fall into his eyes. He’s sparkling with glitter body spray and sex appeal.

Ten watches himself in the mirror as he slides down the pole, hands squeaking against smooth metal, knees spread on either side. He thrusts his hips back and forth against it, back arching at a sinful angle. His audience’s cheers make him smirk as he swings his leg behind him and gets a firm grip on the pole, gracefully lifting his body upside down, silver heel hooking on the pole while he wraps his other leg around it. He’s been doing this for years, practicing so much that lifting his entire body weight is like carrying a feather and his moves are smooth like butter. Melted, glittery butter.

That’s why he’s feeling jealous. He’s the most experienced, most talented, prettiest stripper in the club, but most of the attention is on Qian Kun. The man doesn’t even know how to work a pole. He’s one of the masculine dancers in the club, doing stupid shit like thrusting against the stage and pulling people from the floor so he can do what Ten calls glorified dry humping. He’s even dressed boring. A loose gray tank top with the front tucked into dark wash jeans is _so_ not sex. The attention on his coworker is pissing him off.

While he’s gyrating his hips in smooth circles, he throws his head back, baring his neck and staring down the curved bridge of his nose at Kun.

Kun has a flustered boy in his rhinestone-covered chair, standing on it between his lanky legs and thrusting toward his face. Classy. There’s a rowdy group of men standing near the stage, hooting and chanting “get it, Hendery!” That’s a bachelor outing if Ten’s ever seen one.

Ten’s stretching a leg up his pole when a sinful little lightbulb clicks on over his head. It would be a cute stunt if he just moseyed on over and helped Kun fluster the shy boy in his chair. Then he would get more attention. He chuckles airily at the thought, dropping his heel against the stage and sauntering away from the familiarity of his pole, approaching Kun’s spot. Kun furrows his brow from his spot on the boy’s lap, throwing Ten a confused and annoyed glare as Ten hooks his knee over the back of the chair and supposed Hendery’s shoulder, resting the platform of his heel on Kun’s thigh. This boy’s friend group is going near-feral, and Hendery himself looks like he’s two hip thrusts away from passing out.

Kun’s rolling his eyes, but a playful smile is tugging at the corners of his lips as Ten rolls his hips against the back of the chair, running his fingers through the dark, moussed-up mess of hair on Hendery’s head. Kun grabs Ten’s ankle and lifts his leg up onto his shoulder, standing and wrapping his leg around his swirling hips, jerking a few practiced thrusts under Hendery’s chin. This is new, two strippers dancing around one clubgoer, it’s _sexy_. Maybe Ten is feeling hotter because of the muscular leg tugging him against the back of the chair, the warm, oil-slick skin under his knee, the playful glint in Kun’s eye.

Kun laughs and pushes Ten’s leg off his shoulder, spinning into a smooth circle as he moves behind Ten, pressing his hips flush against his ass. His firm hands go to Ten’s hips, and he can’t help but giggle as he’s manhandled into doing a handstand on the chair, legs spread around Hendery’s face. He rolls his hips in front of Hendery with Kun’s hands still secure around his ankles. Even in the neon, color-changing lights, Ten can tell that Hendery is firetruck red, hands flying to his face in embarrassment. Looking in front of him, Ten can see a tent in his jeans.

The song ends, so they set Hendery free, both laughing as his friend group huddles around him to give high-fives.

Ten’s strutting back toward his pole, bass buzzing under his heels as the next song starts, but a strong hand grabs his hip, spinning him around until he clashes against Kun’s firm chest. He smells like cologne and coconut oil, a surprisingly sexy combination. “Your turn, babydoll,” Kun says, voice struggling against heavy bass. He hooks his arms under Ten’s legs and picks him up, showing off his bravado by bouncing his hips against Ten’s as he walks him to the chair and plops him down. Kun is so practiced in handling lithe figures like feather-light sex dolls, the action doesn’t hurt Ten’s ass at all.

Ten _is_ still at work, so he makes a show himself, arching and rolling his ass against the chair, staring at Kun like he’s good enough to eat. Hell, maybe Ten wouldn’t mind having a slice of Qian Kun for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Kun is dancing in front of Ten, sending rolls down his torso and right leg, sliding his hand down his body and making their audience go wild with screams and wolf-whistles. Paying heavy attention to him, Ten sees that Kun does put a lot of practice into his routines the way he does, hitting each beat and controlling his body even as it moves like sea chop. Now he sees why Kun has quite the audience. Having his attention during performance feels like sex itself.

Ten smiles and sticks his pretty tongue out, making his hand into a gun shape and licking a wet stripe up the two of his fingers before pointing the barrel at Kun’s crotch and flicking his thumb down like he’s shooting it. Kun plays along, jerking his hips back and running his hand into his mess of navy hair, mocking an orgasm as he fucks the air. The crowd loves it.

Kun’s eyes are glowing with mischief, dark irises catching neon lights as he stands close to Ten, grabbing a handful of his silky hair and pulling his face so close to his crotch that the tip of his nose rubs against denim as Kun rolls his hips. Now he’s pulling his hair back, bringing him up straight again and crawling on his lap to thrust against Ten’s toned belly. Ten, keeping focus, rolls against Kun’s movements and playfully squeezes his firm ass.

Kun laughs, face immediately shifting from sex machine to cute puppy, dimple tucked into his right cheek. As quickly as he changed into something adorable, he pulls his expression into serious and hot, grabbing the delicate fabric of his tank top and tugging until he rips it, splitting gray material revealing an oiled up six-pack and pecs. He twirls it in the air before throwing it into the crowd.

Jesus Christ, Kun is _hot_. Ten can feel heat crawling up his chest, fishnet material burning where it’s taut against his sparkling skin. He’s getting restless, wanting to take control, so he lifts his leg and presses his toe against Kun’s abs, making him back up so Ten can stand and gently guide him into the chair. He depends on Kun’s compliance since he’s not strong enough to force him down. Thankfully, he’s amused and excited to see what Ten has in mind.

Ten perches himself in Kun’s lap, legs spread, back to chest, then grasps the front of the chair, sliding his ass up against Kun’s built frame until he’s standing, bent forward and twerking in his face. He feels the press of his nose against his asscrack. Strong hands grip at his thighs, forcing him to bounce back and forth, bangs swaying in front of eyes, heels struggling to keep traction against the stage. A glance toward the mirror reveals that Kun is pretending to eat him out. The sharp cut of Kun’s jaw is flexing and unflexing, his head bobbing back and forth, and every time his face isn’t blocked by Ten’s ass, he can see his lips parted, sometimes sees his tongue draped over his lower lip. With their audience having a total meltdown, Ten’s ears ring. The club manager is going to freak.

For the first time in a while, Ten finds himself getting flustered. Kun is fucking bold. Just like that, Kun gains control again, slipping from behind him and pushing him back into the chair. He gently tips it back, laying Ten down and sitting on his belly. He grabs the edge of the chair and starts sliding it back and forth against the floor, thrusting toward Ten’s thighs every time he pulls it back in. Ten laughs at the stunt as the back of his head drags against the stage. He’ll have to smack Kun later for getting his hair dirty. His laugh turns into a gasp when Kun rolls down on him. He can feel his thick cock pressing between his thighs, his ass against his dick, and he nearly moans right there. So, Kun’s playing _dirty_.

They’re working, dancing in front of a massive audience of clubgoers, displaying a push and pull of flaunting sex appeal, and Kun is trying to fluster Ten. Aha. Two can play that game, Qian Kun.

Ten lifts his right leg up and hooks his knee behind Kun’s shoulder, grinding up against Kun’s thrusts and rubbing his thigh firm against his crotch. He smiles when he sees Kun’s hips stutter, takes the opportunity to lift his hips and kick the chair away, letting it slide from under his back. Kun’s shoulders shake, probably with laughter, and he grabs Ten’s left leg, hooking it behind his shoulder before standing up with his hands on Ten’s thighs. Suddenly being lifted upside down makes Ten squeak in surprise, holding onto Kun’s hips for dear life. Like Ten is just a doll, he easily maneuvers him until his thighs are resting on top of Kun’s shoulders, high heels glittering as they kick uselessly in the air. Kun’s crotch is right in front of Ten’s face.

“Kun,” Ten growls through his teeth, polished nails digging into the firm flesh of Kun’s hips.

Kun’s response is a slow lick over the shimmering skin on the back of Ten’s thigh, the flat of his tongue warm, wet, and sinful. Ten can hardly react before he feels a slap against his asscheek and hears the audience cheering. Yeah, they probably liked how the perfect globe of his ass jiggled. With blood rushing to his head, Ten’s mind is swirling, and the next thing he knows is he’s being put back down, the platforms of his heels clicking against the stage. He gains his fire back when he feels Kun dancing against his back. There’s no way he’s letting Kun win this. He reaches back and rolls his hand against Kun’s (now half-hard) cock, dancing against him and running his other hand into Kun’s hair, grasping it and turning his head back so he can swirl his tongue lewdly against the salty skin of his neck.

The sensation of hands running up Ten’s abdomen makes him shudder, sighing against Kun’s neck and playing his shudder off as a body roll. Kun’s hands are roaming under his fishnet top, then he peels his pasties off and tucks them into his back pocket. A heavy flush rises on Ten’s cheeks as his pert, pink nipples are shown off to the club. It’s not the first time he’s had his nipples out here, but this is different because they’re _hard_. And now, Kun is rubbing his thumbs in circles over them, so dick is starting to follow suit. Erections are bad news in his tight, slutty shorts.

Ten huffs and pushes Kun away with his ass, turning to face him and going for his belt, undoing it deftly and pulling it out of its loops. It’s apparent that the belt was more for function than for show, his jeans starting to slip and reveal Tommy Hilfiger’s name. Kun doesn’t care; he has a stupid sexy smirk on his face. Ten saunters around Kun and pushes on his shoulders, making him bend over. He’s compliant again, pressing his palms against the stage and throwing Ten a wink from between his legs. With an eye-roll, Ten folds the belt over and whips Kun’s ass to the beat of the song that’s on. Kun doesn’t even flinch. He laughs. God.

Frustrated, Ten tosses the belt to the side and nudges Kun’s hip, mumbling “get on the floor,” at a volume only Kun can hear. Kun, with a smug look on his face, slides toward the floor and thrusts against it to entertain the crowd before rolling onto his back, beckoning Ten with a finger. Ten slides into a split before crawling over Kun’s legs, staring the audience down with a sexy glare as he settles onto his lap. His hips move like they’re a separate entity, gyrating and swirling over Kun’s before rocking back and forth, making Kun’s jeans slide up and down his waist. Kun still looks fucking unbothered, so Ten leans forward and presses his thumb against Kun’s lower lip, pulling it down and pressing his nose against his cheek, breath fanning over his mouth before he pulls the lewd stunt of fucking Kun’s pliant mouth with his tongue.

The clubgoers, still not bored of their antics, lose their shit. Kun unsurprisingly tastes amazing, like fresh, minty mouthwash and sexy man. Ten sighs against Kun’s mouth, rolling his hips in a way that has their cocks rubbing against each other through their pants. They’re both fully hard.

Kun grasps his hips and flicks his tongue against the tip of Ten’s, easily rolling them over and pinning Ten against the stage. He bucks his hips forward, pretending to fuck Ten, his hips pressing against his ass and pushing him over the smooth surface of the stage with each thrust. Ten’s head eventually dangles over the edge of the stage, blond strands falling from his eyes. He has a hard time making that look sexy, but he manages to pull it together, keeping his eyes narrowed, lip bitten, arching against the stage to show off his figure.

Kun’s hands grip at the edge of the stage when he leans forward, grinding between Ten’s legs hard, and fuck, it forces a moan out of him. With Kun’s big cock rubbing against his asscrack, his stomach pushing on Ten’s dick, it feels _good_. Kun is pretty much fucking Ten right on this stage, in front of the entire club.

Embarrassed, Ten closes his eyes, grabbing at Kun’s forearms and squirming, chest heaving. Kun doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder, and Ten almost forgets where he is, even with the bass vibrating against his back, cheers and wolf-whistles ringing in his ears. “Kun!” he cries out, digging his nails into his forearms and squeezing his thighs around his hips. Kun just laughs and changes his angle, licking up Ten’s neck. Pleasure shoots up Ten’s spine, and he lets out a shaky breath. A familiar warm sensation coils tight in his core; he’s about to fucking cum. “Ah, stop. _Stop!_ I’m gonna—” he interrupts himself with a whimper when sticky hot pleasure runs through his veins, channeling toward his cock, and his toes try to curl in his tight heels. His mouth falls open, legs quivering around Kun as an orgasm washes over him. “Shit,” he curses, feeling cum wet his shorts, some escaping the slutty piece and rolling down his thigh.

He feels Kun scooping him into his arms, picking him up and carrying him off the stage as the song comes to an end. “Fuck you, Qian Kun,” he whines, hiding his face against Kun’s sweat-slick neck.

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut _up_.”


End file.
